There’s this famous saying that distance makes the heart grow fonder. While I agree with it, I would like to take the liberty to amend the saying a bit. Distance makes the heart grow fonder and persevere. My boyfriend, Mike, and I live exactly 842 miles apart from each other. Michigan to Connecticut is a long distance. I’m just going to be honest, some days the 842 miles apart thing absolutely sucks. I mean like I want to scream into a pillow and throw a remote against the wall kind of suck.

There’s also a saying you hear people tell all the time that goes something like love is complicated. I don’t really need to amend that one, it’s true all on its own. I believe in fate—I believe that since the beginning of time, it was mapped out that Mike and I would meet and end up together. That no matter what, nothing along the way can sever this fate-string connection that we have. Without getting all sappy and sentimental, Mike is the love of my life (honey if you are reading this hi, thanks for being here). The hardest part of our love in this season of life is that we are separated by a stretch of 842 miles.

Michael and I constantly have to remind ourselves that the distance isn’t forever. Soon enough we will be next to each other every day. It gives us hope, don’t get me wrong, but I still live with the fact that we aren’t there yet. It was really hard for me once I got back from my vacation out to CT. I saw him every day for five straight days. We did everything together. And then I had to get on a plane and go home. I was seeing the person I love the most every day and then suddenly, I wasn’t, and I didn’t know when I’d get to see him again. I remember calling him when I got home and saying something along the lines of, babe I’m already saving up for the next trip, okay?

My parents constantly remind me that long distance is a lot different than it used to be. They tell of when my mom was still in college in Indiana and my dad was back here in Michigan and they’d talk on the phone maybe once a week while they were dating. But here I am in 2018, where Mike and I can text during the day, we can call each other, we can facetime/skype, we can be in a party together while we play on our xboxs. We constantly have a way of being in communication with each other. So, although we may not be physically together, we can still “virtually” be together. Uck, I hate that word, I can’t explain why, but I really don’t like the word virtually. But I digress. It’s true that long distance relationships are a lot different than when my parents were doing it. Sometimes it boggles my mind how technology is shaping our lives and society so much and quite honestly so fast.

I may not be in Connecticut with Michael yet, but I’m extremely thankful I can still talk to him every day and see his face still. We definitely have those days where we are getting ready to fall asleep and are just like, dang it, I wish you were here, ughhhh. And I say the same thing every time, soon enough Mike, soon enough.

It’s been one full year; one full year since I made a decision that would change me for the course of my life.

A year ago today, I didn’t want to live anymore. I’m not using this post to rehash all that lead up to it since I did that in a previous post last year—you can read that here. No, what I want to do today is reflect on life’s journey for me and where I’m at today.

It’s a weird transition, living after not wanting to. Surprisingly, it didn’t take that long for me to put that feeling at bay. The most confusing part for me was learning to tell people when I needed help. I’ve never been good at that. I always had a feeling like I was burdening others with my problems—I didn’t want to put anyone out. I felt like I need affirmation or validation from people that it was okay for me to lean on their shoulders. I never realized how many people actually cared for me until after I felt like I didn’t want to live. I had a myriad of people come alongside me and invest in me, point me in directions that would benefit me.

My relationship with God grew immensely over the past year. I learned to rely on his strength and to surrender my will–what I thought would be good for me–to His will, the perfect plan for my life. I thought for the longest time that I should pray for healing from my mental illnesses, from my vices, my addictive personality. What I realized though is maybe it isn’t in God’s plan to heal me. Maybe through these struggles God will reveal my need for Him, maybe He’ll use me to encourage others experiencing these things too. If God wants to heal me, I would praise Him and be so thankful. But if healing doesn’t come for me, I will still praise Him and spread the news of His amazing grace and saving powers.

I’ve come to appreciate the little things in life more. From my family making meals for me, or taking me out to spend time with me. For my friends who check up on me, offer me opportunities to do what I want in life. I appreciate my music, how it provides so much added therapy for me. After feeling like life is too overwhelming, you come to appreciate life more. Life is such a precious thing that you should never take advantage of.

A year ago today I made a decision that wasn’t one of my best. But it has made me a better person, a better friend, a better daughter, sister. I have such a huge desire to live, to tap into my purpose, and to encourage others in whatever stage they are in.

A year later, I am living life to the full and I plan to keep it that way forever.

I can’t stand resolutions; when the new year comes around, I simply let it start.

I’m not one to say I’m going to live healthier, eat better, or grow in any other way. I guess it can stem from my mindset of being a realist. I know that most resolutions don’t last past the first month, so why would I even start one if I know most people are doomed to fail? Nonetheless, resolutions aren’t my thing.

However, this year I’ve decided to do something. I won’t label it as a resolution, but I will call it a goal. If you know me personally, you know that I try to frame my life in an empathetic way with immense care and love for others. I enjoy finding ways to connect with people and make them feel like they aren’t alone. With this being said, my goal for this year is to consciously and genuinely give people more compliments and encouragement.

There is nothing better than to unexpectedly be told that there is something about you that others see and like.

I eat eggs every morning at 8:30am. I used to hate breakfast, but I’ve found that if I put aside some time to get ready in the morning, a routine can and will start to form. My day starts with eggs because without it, my morning would be a mess. I eat my eggs, get changed and then I drive to work. Having a routine in the morning makes me feel like I know exactly what is going to happen—there’s no room for the unknown. And it’s that fact that makes routines such a comfort zone. Continue reading “Routines Are a Comfort Zone.”→

My family has always been one to love sports. We’ve got people into hockey, baseball; others into basketball, football. No matter what the sport is, everyone in my clan enjoys it. While sports may seem a little far-fetched for me to write about—since I don’t play any except disc golf (which for the record, is the best thing since sliced bread)—I feel the need to make a sports analogy for one reason: people get it. Nearly everyone you encounter will understand sports in some way or another. If you don’t agree, let’s go over a simple checklist to make sure you will understand my analogy.

Do you know what a team is?

Do you know what a coach is?

Do you have knowledge of basic sporty moves such as passing, defense, offense, blocking, ?

You got all of that? Good, great, perfect; you’ll understand this analogy better than anyone else.

God is hard to understand sometimes. Amiright? He’s mysterious in His ways and doesn’t always make things clear to us—which is kind of cool if you think about it. It’s not that we have to spend a ton of time trying to uncover the mystery, but it’s the fact that He can keep parts of Himself unknown and yet He still captivate us. Nonetheless, God isn’t always the easiest to make tangible.